


Lead Us Not into Temptation

by Anonymous



Series: Priest AU [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Priests, Bottom Ferdinand, Coersion, Demons, Drugged Sex, Emetophobia, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gaslighting, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Religious Imagery, Slut Shaming, intentionally repulsive imagery, top hubert, worms and bug imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been seven days since my last confession, and these are my sins; I have committed the sin of lustful thoughts towards another member of the Church. For these and all my sins I ask forgiveness—”"Is that all?"
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: Priest AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746463
Comments: 14
Kudos: 84
Collections: Anon Works





	Lead Us Not into Temptation

**Author's Note:**

> please please PLEASE be mindful of the tags, this is a much darker story from my last one, and involves a LOT of trauma/potentially traumatic content. i intentionally leaned into a lot of horror imagery and thoughts as a contrast between the fantasy ferdinand has created and the reality of the world he has committed his life to. its sort of a love/hate letter to my experience being raised catholic (and getting very, very close to joining the church), so if that kind of thing bothers you please consider not reading this one, thank you!!

“He’s ready for you, Father Aegir,” a meek girl, Marianne if he remembers correctly, steps out of the confessional, and kneels next to Ferdinand. She comes every week, eyes red from crying, to pray for her sins. What sins a sweet girl like her could commit in a week, Ferdinand is not sure, but he admires her faith, nonetheless. Ferdinand folds his kneeler away and grips her shoulder in comfort.

“Thank you, Miss Marianne. Peace be with you,” he smiles.

“And also with you, Father Aegir.” Marianne takes out her Rosary and begins to pray, so Ferdinand lets her be, and exits the pew from the other side. 

When Ferdinand reaches the confessional door, he hesitates. It has not been long since his last visit, but the weight of today’s confession presses in on him. He takes a deep breath, opens the door, and kneels before the screen. The silhouette on the other side is difficult to see, but he knows it is Father Seteth today. Perhaps that is why he chose to confess this week; Father Seteth may push at times, but at the first mention of the carnal sins, he is quicker to skim through them. Less prying questions, which Ferdinand is ashamed to admit he needs right now. 

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been seven days since my last confession, and these are my sins…” Ferdinand pauses, breathing. 

“Whenever you are ready,” Father Seteth instructs through the screen.

“Of course, Father. These are my sins…” he steels himself. “I have committed the sin of lustful thoughts for another member of the Church. For these and all my sins I ask forgiveness—”

“Is that all?” Father Seteth asks. The question jars Ferdinand from his flow. 

“Y-yes, well,” he sputters, “I suppose I have engaged in brushes of contact and prolonged glances on occasion, but—”

“Surely that cannot be all, Father Aegir,” Father Seteth smiles through the words. “Remember, lying by omission is not permitted by the Lord.”

“Father Seteth, confession must remain anonymous—”

“Do you fear me spreading word to the rest of the Parish? Your sins are between you and God, I am merely the bridge.”

“I… Yes, Father Seteth,” Ferdinand flushes. He must be overreacting, for Father Seteth to be the voice of reason. He breathes again and continues. 

“I have had… dreams of him, Father. Dreams where we kiss, touch, make lo—” Ferdinand swallow the last words in shame.

“Make love, you say? What do you mean?” Father Seteth asks.

“Surely you already know—”

“The Lord does not permit omission, Father Aegir.”

Ferdinand’s hands shake as he considers Father Seteth’s words. “He… touches me, and I him. With hands, m-mouths, we connect, body and soul.”

“I see. And is it only dreams?” Father Seteth presses.

“No, Father,” Ferdinand stares down at his shaking hands, willing them to still, but they do not. “I have… touched myself to him, to thoughts of him touching me. I… I stole a piece of his underclothes, knowing of his scent and wishing to join with it.”

“Does Father Vestra know of this? Have you told him?”

Ferdinand startles, “I never said—”

“Does he know how much of a filthy slut you are?”

Ferdinand looks up from his hands, through the screen at the figure on the other side. The silhouette, only like Father Seteth in shape, smiles at him too wide, green eyes too bright. Wood clatters on tile as Ferdinand jumps up from the kneeler.

“Who are you?” Ferdinand commands.

“Who am I?” the figure smiles wider, “I am Father Seteth!” 

Ferdinand rushes to the door, yanking it open and slamming it shut to the laughter behind him. He pants, composing himself before Marianne, but she is gone. The entire line of people waiting for their turn has cleared out, leaving him alone. Only the faint light of the moon glows through the stain glass windows, once bright with the midday sun only minutes ago. 

The smell of incense curls around him from the sanctuary, clouds of smoke and the light of a single candle pouring forth from the altar. 

Ferdinand stumbles past the pews to the communion rail, grasping it for support. “Lord, please tell me your plan…” he mutters, body shaking.

“Poor Father Aegir, what is the matter?” a wispy voice coos from behind him. Cold hands press against his sides, wandering up. Ferdinand whips around clumsily, drawing out his Rosary. He shuffles away, stopping when his back collides with the altar. 

“You are not Father Seteth! B-begone, demon!” his voice comes out shaky, the incense clouding his resolve. 

“Clever boy,” the voice goes colder as the figure steps into the candlelight. His body looms over Ferdinand’s, easily a foot taller, with two long, spiraling horns only adding to his height. His face has a terrible beauty to it, all sinister angles and harsh lines, down to that familiar wide smile and bright green eyes. They lure Ferdinand in, who loosens his grip on the Rosary. The demon takes the opening and grabs the Rosary, dragging Ferdinand’s wrists with it. He ties him to the candlestick near the center of the altar. Ferdinand pulls back but by either the weakness of his incense-idled mind, or the strength of the demon’s magic, it does not budge. 

Laughter escapes the demon like a broken hiss. It rustles the soft gold chains around his neck and, to Ferdinand’s horror, from one exposed nipple to the other. He lifts his chin to the sky, pleading God to give him strength. The demon only laughs harder. 

“Naughty Father Aegir, so easily swayed by matters of the flesh,” the demon runs a blackened claw along the line of Ferdinand’s growing erection. A shudder runs up his spine, sweat dripping down his face. 

“Tell me, Father Aegir, in your dreams, how does Father Vestra touch you?” the demon’s tongue flicks as he whispers into Ferdinand’s ear, his breath reeking of burning flesh. Ferdinand’s stomach churns at the stench. 

“He… starts at my legs,” Ferdinand chokes, “kissing me, as he pushes up my robes…” In Ferdinand’s mind, Father Vestra is gentle with him. Fingers, scarred from years of labor, glide across his legs like feathers, brushing across just the right spots. He smiles, warmer than Ferdinand has ever seen from him in real life. His first kiss is soft, right at his ankle, barely a tickle of lips on skin. The tension pulls Ferdinand tight. 

The demon ducks out of sight and pulls Ferdinand’s legs open with rough claws. Ferdinand cannot see him past the fog, but he feels the way his tongue, hot and slimy, leaves a wet trail up his legs. It bubbles and stings, sending shocks up to his cock. Ferdinand chokes back a cry as the demon tears away his underclothes to reveal him to the cool night air. 

“What then, Father Aegir?” 

“He, ah… he licks my…” Ferdinand slurs out. Claws dig into his thigh and he yelps at the pain.

“Licks your what?”

“M-my end!” Ferdinand cries out, and the demon laughs. The Father Vestra of Ferdinand’s dreams grows emboldened, sliding up Ferdinand’s body with steady hands. He leaves warm, open mouthed kisses along his underclothes, before pulling them down far enough to expose Ferdinand’s backside. With deft fingers, Father Vestra pulls him apart, hot breath and tongue pressing down on his entrance. 

The demon’s tongue wastes no time winding its way around his rim before sliding in deep all at once. It feels like fire, beautiful and painful, burning Ferdinand from the inside. The tongue writhes like a worm, burrowing deeper inside him. Ferdinand shakes with the sensation, the wild undulation against his prostate in chaotic flashes. 

_My, my, look how loose your filthy hole is, just for me,_ the demon’s voice echoes in Ferdinand’s head. _Your hands must have been terribly busy,_ the voice rings through him, covering every corner of his mind with the demon’s muck.

 _Go on, Father Aegir, come for me,_ the demon presses, and with a dry heave deep in his chest, Ferdinand comes. The demon pulls out as white ribbons of cum stain the inner layers of Ferdinand’s robes. The demon scoffs, and with one motion tears Ferdinand’s robes open. He lies on the altar, cold marble to his back as the rest of the fabric slips away. The demon slides his chest up Ferdinand, metal from his jewelry impossibly cold on the demon’s hot body. He licks a strip of cum off Ferdinand’s chest, and Ferdinand can finally see the black lines of spit tracking up his body. Bubbles in the slime wriggle like maggots across his body before bursting with a shock of rancid air. Repulsion rises in Ferdinand, but even as he wishes to vomit, his cock begins to harden again. 

“Very good, Father. We have only begun; what does Father Vestra do next?” the demon asks, swirling a claw across each of Ferdinand’s nipples.

“He kisses me, and…” Ferdinand chokes on the words, “takes me, with his m-member…”

The demon laughs, airy and dry. “His ‘member’? My, still so shy for such a whore.” His tail wraps around Ferdinand’s cock as he lines himself up. “No matter, it is all the same anyways.”

Father Vestra is slow in Ferdinand’s dreams, methodical. He presses into Ferdinand inch by blissful inch, watching him gasp and moan with each movement. When he finally bottoms out, Ferdinand is shaking, teary eyed with arousal. Father Vestra leans down then and kisses away the tears from each eye, his forehead, his cheeks, whispering sweet words to Ferdinand before connecting in a gentle, lingering kiss. 

Ferdinand has no time to realize the girth of the demon until it is plunging deep in him, stretching him impossibly wide. It burns, hotter than the tongue, still mixing with the bubbling saliva in his hole. Tears run down his cheeks, incense clouded brain aching with pleasure and pain. The tail on his cock tightens, depriving him of any release. Ferdinand’s head lolls down, watching his stomach. With each thrust, Ferdinand’s body crashes backward, hips bruised between sharp claws and marble. His cock bounces rhythmically from its confines, stomach bulging from the demon’s large cock. It protrudes like a monster, hollowing his insides, desperate to burst through. Somewhere far away, his mind screams the wrongness of it all, but the fog makes it hard to care beyond the arousal and rising nausea in his throat. 

As Ferdinand opens his mouth to vomit, the demon’s tongue plunges down his throat. He gags, bile unable to escape. The slimy, bubbling saliva drips down his throat, tasting of sacrificial wine tainted by the sharp iron of blood. From this close, Ferdinand can see every detail of the demon’s hazy face. His familiar green eyes glimmer down at him with mirth. 

_You are certainly enjoying yourself, Father Aegir_ , the demon’s voice echoes. His tail pulls at Ferdinand’s aching cock. Ferdinand cries out, messy and muffled by the demon’s tongue, his body wracked with sensation. Around them, candles flare, burning brighter with each thrust driving into Ferdinand. The flame illuminates the dome above, chipped fresco of the four saints observing the carnal display. From down at the altar, muddled by the incense, they appear to cry. Who they cry for, Ferdinand cannot say. 

Ferdinand feels the shift as the demon’s thrusts grow more erratic. He lets go of Ferdinand’s cock, doubling down on his hole and throat. Claws pierce into his sides and draw out blood as Ferdinand comes, clenching hard on the demon’s cock. The Rosary tugs at his weary wrists, holding him in place as the demon has his way. As if on command, the demon spills into Ferdinand moments later, rancid seed bloating his stomach. The demon’s wings spread wide, covering the saints, coating the world in deep red, before everything goes black. 

-x-

“Father Aegir, are you alright?”

When Ferdinand awakens, he is fully clothed, laying at the foot of the altar. His back aches, but no more than one might expect from foolishly napping on marble. 

“Father Aegir,” the man above him presses again. As Ferdinand’s head clears, the silhouette solidifies into Father Vestra, familiar green eyes wide with concern. Ferdinand startles, shuffling away from Father Vestra’s confused face. He flushes, stumbling to get up on his own. When Father Vestra reaches to help, it takes everything in Ferdinand not to shove him away in shame, but he takes the hand offered. 

“Sorry, F-father Vestra, I must have fainted,” he flusters, wiping his brow. “I had the most terrible dream—” 

He halts, looking at his wrists. They are bruised, a beaded pattern winding their way around them. He falters, clumsily drawing his sleeves to cover the marks. 

“I must go,” Ferdinand stumbles away, down the nave with shaky step. “Peace be with you, Father.”

“And also with you,” Father Vestra smiles.


End file.
